


Step By Step

by Thia (Jennaria)



Category: Toy Soldiers (1991)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-28
Updated: 2004-10-28
Packaged: 2017-10-06 09:49:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennaria/pseuds/Thia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stealing moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Step By Step

**Author's Note:**

> So Irisbleu reads Heart To Heart and wants to know what was going on back in the dorm room. I don't know, says I. They didn't tell me, says I. You'd think I'd know better by now.

Neither Billy nor Joey move when Phil goes out the door. Joey checks his watch absently, but doesn't say anything. Billy bites his tongue, watching him, but looks back down at his homework. The English paper must be three pages long, and he has barely one page written.

Sounds of pen on paper, pages turning. Joey closes his math book with a thump, and Billy looks up in time to catch him checking his watch again. Joey shows no sign of noticing, instead picking up another book. Billy takes a deep breath and writes another sentence. He can feel his pulse where his wrist presses against the desk, picking up speed as if he's running around the school instead of sitting calmly in his dorm room and doing homework.

At the ten-minute mark -- Billy doesn't see Joey check his watch this time, but knows when it is nonetheless -- Joey slams his current book closed, a far more decided _thomp_ than the math book. He swings his legs down off the side of his top bunk, jumps down, walks over to the door and opens it to lean out a bit for an oh-so-casual glance both ways. Coast is apparently clear, as he steps back into the room and gently shuts the door again.

Billy has not sat still to watch this. As soon as Joey swung down from the bunk, Billy abandoned his half-written paper, got up and went to the closet. He kneels down there next to a box half-hidden on the floor beneath the shit that's accumulated and sorts through the tapes, discarding two before finally pulling out one that's lost its case. He takes it over to the tape deck that sits on his desk and puts it in. He feels Joey's eyes on him, but doesn't turn around until he's pressed 'play'.

Then he turns around and meets Joey's eyes. There's a moment of awkwardness, feels so _planned_. Then Joey smiles a little, and Billy can't help grinning. Billy walks over to him, pulls him in, one hand sliding around Joey's neck to anchor itself in the fine hair at the nape, and kisses Joey. It feels kind of awkward -- he hasn't kissed Joey often enough yet to not get lost in the mind-blurring feel of Joey's lips against his -- but Joey doesn't seem to mind, soft _mmm_ as his hands settle on Billy's hips. His mouth opens against Billy's. Billy's breath catches in a startled laugh, and he has to break the kiss to catch his breath again. "You wanna sit down?" The words sound loud in his ears even with Aerosmith hammering away at drums and guitar to mask them, even with the way the words catch in his throat so they come out husky and quiet, breathed out almost against Joey's lips.

Moment. Joey's eyes keep flickering from Billy's down to Billy's lips. "...yeah," he says at last, not much more than a whisper. Instead of sitting down, though, he leans forward again, just barely brushing his lips against Billy's, again, then a tentative lick.

Billy groans softly, and says, "C'mon," begging and not giving a shit because he knows by now how it feels when Joey stops being tentative and that's worth begging for. He tugs Joey that fraction of an inch closer again so he can kiss him again, even if it means they don't sit down yet, because kissing Joey is more important, soft lips opening against his again --

Joey breaks the kiss, actually taking a step back. He's breathing just as hard as Billy is, and he's blinking rapidly as he looks around, as if it's taking an extra couple seconds for what he sees to click with his mind. His hands are still on Billy's hips. Joey's eyes linger on Billy's chair for long enough that Billy notices and looks over there as well, but they don't move that direction: not enough room, and Phil's in the library, they have enough time. They both move toward the bunkbed instead, and sit down on the lower bunk.

Billy doesn't know who leans in for a kiss this time. Both mouths open now, taste of Joey that isn't exactly a taste but he can't think of another word for it, Joey exploring his mouth carefully as if he wants to draw it from memory. Billy feels for Joey's arm blindly, then slides his hand up it. Joey feels warm and solid, muffled by the fucking fabric. _In the way,_ Billy thinks, and isn't sure whether he means Joey's shirt or his own arm, which is half-crushed between them now. He tries to undo Joey's top button, but his fingers keep slipping off. Joey's not helping: when Billy's other hand falls away from Joey's neck, Joey murmurs something wordless and protesting into Billy's mouth, and his hands finally slide down around Billy's hips and tug him in so Billy's as close to Joey as he can get and still be sitting up.

Billy pulls back, just far enough to take a deep, shuddering breath. He brushes his mouth against Joey's jaw, then Joey's check; he wants to unbutton Joey's shirt, which means he should just sit back and use both hands, but he can't and won't pull back. Joey abruptly turns his head and catches the next kiss on his mouth. His hands slide up Billy's back a bit, hesitate around his waist. Billy sits back again, more determinedly this time, and pulls his shirt free from his jeans. For a heartbeat he thinks about just pulling it off completely and throwing it to the floor. Then Joey cocks his head and smiles at him and pulls _his_ shirt free of his jeans as well.

Billy takes another breath -- not a stall, he feels like he keeps forgetting to breathe -- and goes for the buttons. Joey blinks at him, then helps, undoing from the bottom as Billy started from the top. Doesn't ask why. Probably doesn't need to, since as soon as he's exposed, Billy reaches out and touches, laying his palms flat on Joey's chest, which is flushed and even warmer without the shirt in the way.

Joey jumps. "Cold fingers," he says. His voice sounds almost normal.

"So're yours." Billy picks up one of Joey's hands to prove his point, lacing their fingers together. Joey's hands actually aren't particularly cold. He brings their laced hands up and kisses the back of Joey's hand, lingering too long to claim he's trying to be courtly, even for a joke. Like he could pass anything off as a joke between them.

Joey shakes his head, but doesn't laugh, just uses that same hand to tug Billy close again, close enough for Joey to swing one leg over and sit on Billy's lap. Same position they'd have been in if they'd sat in his chair after all: Billy thinks about pointing this out, but Joey lets go of his hand and wraps his arms around Billy and kisses him, sweet and demanding. Billy kisses him back, one hand coming up around Joey's back. Part of him wants to pull Joey in closer, no space between them at all. But he's half-hard -- fuck, more than half-hard, starting to get painful cramped inside his jeans. Does Joey know? Fuck that, of course Joey knows, same as Billy knows that Joey's hard too. But he still can't reach down and adjust himself in front of Joey.

He _can_ put one hand on Joey's thigh. Not groping him, not yet: they don't have much time and they both know it, Phil won't stay at the library forever, but Billy doesn't care. Just touching Joey there is enough to make Joey's breath catch and his hips push forward before he catches himself. Billy grins into the kiss and slides his hand further up Joey's thigh to where Joey wants it. Hot and solid behind the jeans. Billy squeezes, just enough to feel.

Joey breaks the kiss, breath hot and uneven against Billy's cheek. His hands tighten on Billy's back, tugging at Billy's shirt again, then slide down to find bare skin. Billy mmms and kisses Joey's cheek, then under his ear, light brushes of his lips: he's paying only half attention, because half is on undoing Joey's jeans. Button, zipper...he gets the zipper all the way down, then can't go on, hand half-inside Joey's jeans, back of his fingers pressed against Joey's erection through his boxers. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, but that doesn't help.

Joey laughs into Billy's ear and kisses his temple, small teasing lick of his tongue against Billy's skin. Billy retaliates by licking his way down Joey's neck to almost the shoulder, then choosing a spot near Joey's collarbone and sucking at it fiercely. Joey's laugh turns into a gasp, and his hands clench at Billy's waistband. Billy bites at the spot he's chosen -- he wants to leave a mark -- and remembers to turn his hand so his palm rests against Joey. It's awkward, but Joey moves into the pressure anyway like he can't help it. Then he says, "Hey, wait," and shifts his weight enough that he can reach between them, too, and undo Billy's jeans.

Billy sits back and lets him, abandoning the hickey, trying to meet Joey's eyes. Joey looks up from under his lashes, eyes dark and intent. His hands slow down a bit, but he finishes unzipping Billy's jeans, then leans in and kisses him, quick inquiring kind of kiss.

Billy kisses him back, then looks down. He pulls his hand free, shakes it for a second -- it was about to go to sleep, which isn't sexy at all -- then, watching what he's doing, he pulls the waistband of Joey's boxers out, down...they won't go down very far, not with the jeans in the way and Joey straddling him, so he settles for pulling them down far enough to leave Joey exposed. He doesn't let himself touch Joey any more than necessary, not until he's done. Then he hesitates for a moment, one hand in the air. Joey turned on, Joey wanting _him_. If he licks his lips, he can taste Joey.

"C'mon," Joey whispers. His hands rest loosely between them, but his hips shift a little on Billy's lap, like he can't control it.

Billy nods, once, without looking up, and takes Joey in a loose grip. He's back to having to remember to breathe, trembling as he closes his fingers around Joey's erection. Not like he doesn't know what a hard-on feels like, Jesus, but Joey's hands clench and his head falls forward. "Joey," Billy says, quiet and intent, hardly audible with the Aerosmith in the background, but Joey looks up again. Billy leans forward abruptly and kisses him and moves his hand up and down, still fairly loose. Smooth, dry -- shit. Dry. Billy breaks the kiss, turns his head, and licks his other hand, fingers and palm. Joey watches, every breath harsh in Billy's ears. Billy kisses him again, and wraps his damp hand around Joey, careful up and down. Better. Moves much more easily, anyway.

He doesn't try to make it last, not now that he has his hand wrapped around Joey. Just moves his hand, and kisses Joey, awkward and messy, teeth clashing, because Joey's not exactly paying attention and Billy's not much better. He finally finds a rhythm, guessing at it by the way Joey gasps then moans out loud in his ear, "Billy…" At last Joey tenses up all over, not a sound, not even a whisper, and Billy feels hot spurts well over his hand. He slows, pulling back from the kiss enough to watch Joey's face, then stops and lets go before it'll be painful.

"Tissues," Joey says suddenly. It comes out slurred and sleepy. His head's fallen forward to rest against Billy's neck. "Forgot tissues."

"Mmm." Billy raises his hand and licks it curiously. It tastes…it tastes bitter and salty. He licks again, trying to decide if he likes the taste.

Joey reaches up and pulls his hand away from his mouth. Joey's smiling a little, though when he sits up again, he's still moving like he doesn't have bones. He tugs at Billy's t-shirt, pulling it up and over Billy's head. Billy cooperates, confused, until Joey takes the t-shirt, by now hanging from one wrist, and uses it to wipe off Billy's hand, finger by finger. Billy doesn't know whether to laugh or gasp, and winds up making a noise somewhere in between.

Joey pulls the t-shirt off over Billy's hand, then bends forward and kisses Billy. He slides his fingers along Billy's collarbone, so light it's almost tickling. Billy leans forward without meaning to, and Joey opens his mouth to Billy's tongue. His hand stills on Billy's chest, though, which doesn't help. Billy slides up his own hand, reaching for Joey's wrist to guide his hand where he wants it, is fucking aching for it.

Joey smiles into the kiss -- Billy can feel the turn of his lips, even if he can't see it -- and wriggles backward on Billy's thighs a little bit, just enough that he can reach Billy without breaking his wrists. He tries to tug Billy's jeans down, but that doesn't work, just pulls the fabric awkwardly taut in places Billy didn't think it could get pulled. He gives up on that after a moment, hooks his fingers into the waistband of Billy's boxers, and pulls them out and down. He's not as careful as Billy was, not to touch. His eyes flicker back and forth, from what he's doing to Billy's face. When he's got the boxers out of the way, he doesn't hesitate at all, not even to lick his hand, just takes Billy in a firm grip.

Billy hears himself groan Joey's name, eyes closing. The tape's almost at an end of one side, he's gotta be quiet, but Joey's hand moves on him almost the right way, and when he opens his eyes again, Joey's watching him intently, eyes dark as if he hasn't already come himself. Joey speeds up a little, and Billy fists his hands against Joey's leg to keep from moaning again. "Yeah, right..." _Right there_, he means.

Joey's smile widens a bit, and he leans over to kiss Billy. Billy tries to kiss him back, but he's too close, can't do anything but feel Joey's hand on him. He comes, shaking, his moan muffled against Joey's mouth. Joey catches him, one hand around his back when he slumps a bit. Billy relaxes into that hand for a minute, then straightens up again. Phil will be coming back soon.

Joey isn't looking at the door. He's looking at his hand. His eyes flicker up to meet Billy's for a second, then he raises his hand to his mouth and licks at his fingers. He frowns thoughtfully at the taste and looks around for the t-shirt.

Billy laughs, quiet, as the tape finishes the last song on the side and hums into silence. "Joey," he says, just to say his name. The mark on Joey's collarbone has faded a bit, but it's still pretty vivid against his pale skin. Have to hope the shirt will cover it.

Joey finishes wiping off his hand, not looking away from Billy. "Definitely tissues," he says firmly.

"I don't know." Billy reaches up and brushes his thumb over Joey's lower lip. "Don't wanna get predictable."

"You? Never." Joey steals one last kiss, then swings his leg over Billy and stands up, catching himself with his hand on the upper bunk when his legs don't want to support him. He pulls his boxers back into place, and tilts his head at Billy. "How much more homework do you have to do?"

"Half the English paper and all the Geo questions." Billy stands up too, adjusts his boxers and zips up his jeans again. He tosses the used t-shirt into his laundry pile, then opens a drawer and pulls out a clean one that looks almost exactly the same. "You?"

"History reading." Joey picks up the book in question and lets it fall back to his bed. He goes over to his desk instead and picks up a magazine that's lying there, and takes it up to his bunk, where he sprawls out and begins reading the magazine.

Billy looks back down at his paper. His hands are still trembling a little. But he's got a paper to write. He turns a page in his book, and starts writing again. They're ready when Phil returns to the room.

-end-


End file.
